Nicotine
by snarechan
Summary: Razer really should have known better than to go flirting with Keira of all people.


Nicotine

By Snare-chan

**Pairings**: Razer-checking-out-Keira  
**Ratings**: K+  
**Category(ies)**: General  
**Warning(s**: None  
**Status**: One-shot, complete  
**Summary**: Razer really should have known better than to go flirting with Keira of all people.

**Notes**: Because I'm lame at titles, full credit goes to Cassandra Cassidy for helping me with the title (and basically just coming up with it). This fic is in response to Pip's challenge over at the jak fanfics livejournal community. Here's hoping I understood it right. My main het pairing is Torn/Keira, so I choose why Razer/Keira just would. Not. Work. Cause Torn/Keira is better in my very humble opinion.

Even if Razer is made of _awesome_.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Jak X; wish I did like everybody else. They should put Jak X in stock, then I'd buy it all!

* * *

"This beer tastes funny," Edje announced as he winced with the passing of his drink down his windpipe. Regardless of his announcement, as well as his grossed-out expression, said taste apparently didn't daunt him enough to keep from taking another large swallow of it. He was probably getting too far drunk to care what he was drinking at this point.

Shiv, however, had been listening and now peered down into his mug cautiously before taking a hesitant whiff. When no eyes or nose hair fell from his face, he merely shrugged and took a big gulp, nearly draining the entire glass. Cutter was already ahead of them both by two mugs.

"Now, now, gentlemen…" someone drawled closely, surprising Edje enough to nearly spit up what he'd started.

"I'm all for happy hour, but do keep in mind how we have a race we need to _win_ tomorrow," the newcomer pointed out, who revealed himself to be none other than Razer. Though their boss' words were quite polite, the emphasized one – _win_ – was enough to sober them to understanding.

"No sweat; we're on our last rounds."

"Hm, how responsible of you three," he stated as he started lighting a new cigarette, speaking past it with practiced ease. With his piece spoken, he was about to leave when a new, _very feminine_, voice filled the air.

"Hi, I'd like that case of beer - yes, that one. How much do I owe you?"

Turning in the midst of trying to flick-start his lighter, Razer actually double-taked, a very uncommon practice for the likes of him. Thankfully no one spotted the gesture, and everyone continued on their merry way of drowning in their sorrows or gambling. The reason for his surprise was the green-haired woman he remembered hanging around that new Jak fellow, and she was standing at the far end of the bar.

"Well, well…what do we have here?" he murmured, a grin forming as he finally lit his cigarette, the embers burning bright red for a moment.

"Here, keep the change, and don't worry. I can carry all-"

"May I be of some assistance?" Razer asked, using his most dashing voice, from right beside the girl, startling her somewhat to the point of almost dropping the drinks she'd just purchased. Her face appeared to have been ready to ask if it would be possible to just get the things into her transport, until she had turned fully around to face him. Then she frowned, eyelids drooping to half-mast to regard him as if she'd come face-to-face with a lizard. More accurately, a snake. So she recognized him – _good_.

"No thank you, I'm perfectly capable of toting this around all by myself."

"Oh, but I insist," Razer purred, reaching out one yellow-gloved hand to take the case for her. She didn't relent her hold despite this.

"No, _I_ insist." She tugged it back, the case soon caught in a game of tug-of-war.

"But it would be so ungentlemanly of me to allow such a lovely lady to go unassisted."

"I'm stronger than I look; I can handle it!"

"Then would you, perchance, like to demonstrate this 'strength' of yours over dinner?"

He expected her to go weak at the knees, slack jawed, bug-eyed and - if she was like any of the other ladies he'd crossed - overcome with joy at the opportunity to even just say to her friends and family back home that someone of Razer's caliber had bothered to just _ask_ her to share a meal together. He did _not_ expect her to merely stare at him. No widening of the eyes like a Wastelander woman, or the 'oh' face of a Kras City member. There wasn't even a sign of a suggestively raised brow like a Haven City dweller would have done in such an instance. She just…looked at him.

Then, looking, if not a bit strained, then delicate, she leaned in close and spoke. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. I don't date men with tobacco breath."

With that, the gal clad in purple took her case of beer from Razer's now-slackened digits, exiting through the front door without so much as a single glance back in his direction. It was about then he realized the bar had gone mystically dead silent, his eyes darting back at the clients and lackies still stationed there with a glare.

"_What_?"

Quickly, the bar was up and running again, as if nothing had happened at all.

-Fin-


End file.
